


Catscratch

by Tah the Trickster (TahTheTrickster)



Series: My Hero. [10]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, This Fandom Needs More Lesbian Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8944228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TahTheTrickster/pseuds/Tah%20the%20Trickster
Summary: "It is not what, it is who. We are awaited in Whiterun. This one would like for you to meet her."Her?





	1. Chapter 1

Dar'Zahyla had been so shaken by the slaying of a fellow Khajiit in the Ratways—even one who'd been contracted to kill her—that it took her the better part of a fortnight to return to her usual chipper self. Even then, she remained far too easily startled—when the courier had run up to her, shouting for her, it was only my own quick reflexes that prevented the poor sap from a closed-fist dwarven gauntlet to the jaw.

"Just a courier, my Thane," I soothed her easily, sparing only a glance at the shaken man as I held my tight grip on her armored wrist.

Her bright eyes blinked slowly once, twice, and she grimaced at herself. I loosed my grip, allowing her hand to fall back to her side. "Yes, so Khajiit sees. Many apologies," she added, nodding at the man. "Who is it you seek?"

"Y-es, ah," he stammered, fumbling into his rucksack. "I, ah, have a letter for, ah—Dar'Zahyla?" He looked expectantly at her, correctly figuring that the name was not mine.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. I didn't blame her; I couldn't think of anyone who'd be sending her messages, and particularly not from such an easily-intercepted source. "From whom?" she asked, jerking her chin at the scroll he held out to her.

"Ah—she didn't say," he apologized. "It was a Bosmer woman, but that's all I know. She didn't give me a name." Judging from her perplexed expression, that only increased her confusion.

"Hm." She took it warily, and handed it off to me. She handed the man a few septims for his service, and he jogged off again—a little faster than he'd approached, I noted with a little smirk.

"Kha'jay, this one is too weary to read your awful Nordic scratchings," she reported, gesturing for me to follow as we continued down the path towards Markarth. "What does it say?"

I chuckled and broke the wax seal, pausing only a second to glance at the signet—a curious looped symbol with a dot set off-center. "My Thane," I teased, unrolling the crisp parchment, "I get the feeling you're abusing your authority." She scoffed. I just smiled and looked down at the letter.

I promptly stopped in my tracks, faced with a page full of slanted, looping cursive notations that I couldn't even begin to decipher.

"My Thane, he said a Bosmer woman, didn't he?" I said hesitantly, slowly resuming my walk.

"Mm? Yes, Khajiit believes so. Why?"

I studied the page a moment longer before shaking my head and allowing it to roll up again. "This must be written in their language; I can't read a word of it. I don't suppose you happen to read Ayleidoon?"

The question startled a laugh out of her. She reached back to take the scroll. "Dar'Zahyla is afraid she missed her schooling on ancient elvish," she said wryly. She unrolled the letter to glance it over herself. "Kaver vaba—?" She, too, stopped suddenly—so much so that I nearly ran into her.

I laughed at her surprise and ducked to the side to miss her. "My Thane, I did tell you..." I trailed off; her eyes were wide with shock, tearing rapidly down the page. My smile slipped into a puzzled frown. "I thought you didn't read elvish."

She looked up at me, grinning more broadly than I'd ever seen her before, and my confusion only grew. "Kha'jay, this is no elfspeak—this is the Khajiit tongue, Ta'agra."

"I— _ what? _ " I looked back at the letter, baffled, as though a second study would have its origin leap out at me more clearly. "What in the world Bosmer would know how to write Khajiiti?"

There was a wicked glimmer in her eye, and a mischievous grin on her lips. After days of shellshock, I almost didn't recognize her like this. "A rather  _ peculiar _ one, yes?" She allowed the letter to roll back up and she tapped my breastplate with it. "Come, we are taking a detour. To Whiterun." She started off immediately.

"Y—my Thane, that's three  _ days _ out of our way!" I protested, jogging to catch up. "What could you possibly need in Whiterun that we couldn't also get in Markarth?"

She flashed me another grin over her shoulder. "It is not what, it is who. We are awaited in Whiterun. Dar'Zahyla would like for you to meet her."

Her? " _ Who? _ "

Her grin didn't fade even a bit, her emerald eyes still glittering with delight. "You shall see, Kha'jay. You will like her."

I didn't already.


	2. Chapter 2

The three-day detour into Whiterun saw my Thane in brighter spirits than I'd seen her in... well, since she'd first requested that I tag along with her through her quests.

Since we'd first gotten stuck together, the grueling days and harrowing battles had slowly dimmed the spark in her eye. I could hardly blame her—it was probably hard to convince herself some days that the world that wore her down so heavily was one worth saving. Certainly, she still appeared as chipper as ever, but I saw the way her shoulders slumped every night... the way she tallied each new wound and scar with a grimace and a sigh.

But now, her cheer was genuine. I'd hardly ever heard that husky, melodic laugh of hers so often before. And it seemed to be all due to this... mystery Bosmer woman of hers.

"My Thane, are you going to tell me who exactly we're going to see?" I asked, for what felt like the hundredth time.

She flashed me that same broad grin I'd seen so often, and she gave me the same reply as before: "This one will give you her name when we arrive."

I simply rolled my eyes and picked up my pace to keep up with her quick step towards the gates of Whiterun. The Khajiit caravan was setting up outside the walls today, and Dar'Zahyla paused at the edge of the path to scan the campsite. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"Ri'saad," she greeted the elder Khajiit as he ducked out of his tent. The two gripped forearms in greeting, and Dar'Zahyla offered him a bright smile. "M'Athra vaba etofor yesho?"

He rolled his eyes, though an amused smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Eh, jat, jat. Sheggorri vaba roj, bishu fa. 'Ba pe etofa." Ri'saad jerked his chin in the direction of the city.

"Shabar jhadat?" She sounded surprised, but then she laughed and shook her head. Her hands loosed him, falling to rest on her hips. Dar'Zahyla gave him a slightly mischievous grin "Jat, tasmiit rabaoh atha'a yo betha, dov?"

Ri'saad only barely stifled his snort of derision. "Dar'Zahyla, ketra esho."

She looked abashed, but only for a second. She touched a hand to her breastplate and dipped her head, smiling. "Tonshe, t'har."

Dar'Zahyla finally turned back to face me, grinning again. "On we go, kha'jay, we are awaited inside." She bounced lightly on her toes and started back up the hill at a quick clip.

"What was all that about?" I asked, gesturing vaguely back towards the Khajiit as they continued to set up camp. I'd long since learned that there was no use in interrupting her as she spoke with another Khajiit; trying to speak Ta'agra and Nordic within the same conversation evidently baffled her tongue, and she often wound up speaking an odd combination of the two that was indecipherable by either party.

"The letter said she was traveling for a time with Ri'saad, in the direction of Whiterun," Dar'Zahyla told me, altogether ignoring the guardsmen at the gate. "However, this one did not see her there—Khajiit was merely reaffirming that she did make it."

"I take it she did?" I supplied as she led us in the direction of the Bannered Mare.

Dar'Zahyla simply smiled and opened the door, gesturing for me to enter before her. I shook my head and stepped inside, the young Khajiit right on my heels.

The door had scarcely had time to close all the way before her ear swiveled sharply to the left, and then with a sharp grunt she'd been all but tackled into the wall. My sword was halfway drawn before I heard her laughing, and saw her embracing her attacker tightly. I reluctantly slid it back in its scabbard and grasped my hands behind my back.

"Kha'jay, rik na shivata?" purred the woman's unfamiliar voice. I looked up sharply; I recognized the first word, but that was the first time I'd heard it in a voice other than my Thane's. The woman Dar'Zahyla embraced was indeed Bosmer, though hearing that husky, accented language on a Bosmer tongue was... unusual. And hearing the term aimed at my young charge was just grating.

She was a pretty young thing, I supposed, with a wild mane of coal-black hair framing a soft, slender face the color of tilled soil. She stood only a half-foot taller than Dar'Zahyla—still yet a half-foot shorter than myself—though the height difference didn't stop her from leaning down to gently bunt her forehead against Dar'Zahyla's. My Thane purred thunderously at the gesture. She reached up to brush the Bosmer's hair from her face, and I nearly started at the sight of the bright golden eyes set in the elf's dark face—a far cry from the dark browns and blacks I was accustomed to. Then again, the Bosmer didn't oft sport the thin, brightly-colored garments she wore, either—nor did they paint their faces with such peculiar scarlet warpaint.

"Zath na," Dar'Zahyla purred, lightly stroking the woman's cheek with her thumb. She gave a little noise, then, her eyes widening in surprise as the elf kissed her soft on the mouth.

My nails bit into my palm.  _ So they're like that, then. _

Dar'Zahyla put her fingertips to her lips and cleared her throat, looking altogether mortified at such a public display. Indeed, I could see the small handful of folks who'd seen it sneering in disgust. "Ah... Etoforoh, ariit," she mumbled through her fingers.

Her partner laughed softly and pulled back to admire her fully. "You've gotten taller," she said, smiling, a baffling Khajiiti accent still clinging to her words.

"Ah, not very," Dar'Zahyla demurred with a chuckle.

"And stronger. Very much so."

"That—well, yes." She caught my eye then and promptly straightened up, clearing her throat. "Apologies, this one has lost her manners." Dar'Zahyla eased away and held her hand out to me with a smile. I bypassed the gesture, but stepped forward nonetheless, letting her hand awkwardly fall back to her side. "Er... this is Lydia. Her position is... difficult to describe, yes? Eh... Khajiit rasiniit, hm?"

The Bosmer chuckled and smiled brightly up at me. "Dras'kay, traven. Rik vara?" She reached out a hand. I blinked hard, uncertain of what she'd said.

Dar'Zahyla elbowed her gently. "Nordic," she murmured aside to her.

"Oh! Apologies," the Bosmer chuckled, grasping my forearm in the oddly familiar Khajiiti greeting. I clumsily returned the gesture, uncertain of what else was expected of me. "Greetings, then. This one is called S'Athra." Dar'Zahyla's brows rose in surprise, but she didn't say anything. "I must offer you my thanks for keeping this daft kit safe."

A begrudging smile tried to quirk the corner of my lips at Dar'Zahyla's sharp protest of being called such. "...Certainly. I  _ am _ sworn to her service." I hesitated, then, the curious construction of her name finally registering. "...If I may, how does a Bosmer come by a Khajiiti name? ...And learn its language?"

S'Athra frowned sharply and gave Dar'Zahyla a severe look. My Thane simply grinned wickedly. "...S'Athra sees Dar'Zahyla has not mentioned this to you. Further apologies; this one is not Dreameri."

"You—"

I paused as she looked up at me again, and it was then that I really noticed the way the ruddy paint circled her eyes, stroked down her noise, branched out across her cheeks... The way her pupils contracted slowly into slits and, when she grinned at my dawning comprehension, the way her canines were so much longer and sharper than my own...

"You're a Khajiit," I realized. Her soft palm hastily covered my mouth. She grinned wickedly.

"Quiet, please," she said in a low purr. "Most of your kind fail to realize we may take this form. This one does enjoy getting to enter cities, yes?" I cleared my throat and she let her hand drop once more.

"...Sorry," I said, still trying to figure out how in the world the woman standing before me was even remotely the same species as Dar'Zahyla... or, gods, any of the other Khajiit I'd ever seen in Skyrim. I coughed into a fist, giving me another second to compose myself. "Uh... my Thane, shall I get us a room so you two can..." I hesitated for perhaps a second too long. "Catch up?"

S'Athra's cheeks went a shade darker, and she cleared her throat. "Ah—not in that way," she hastily assured me with a little laugh. "But yes, Ly'dia speaks true." I shot Dar'Zahyla a raised brow at the pronunciation. She shrugged. S'Athra didn't seem to notice. "This one has already acquired her room, however. Please—come."

We paused only briefly at the tavern's bar on our way back. S'Athra bought some sort of expensive Cyrodilic wine for the pair of them as well as mead for me, though as the two started towards S'Athra's room I slipped Hulda some extra coin for some stronger drink for myself. Watching the way the two brushed against each other, grinning and laughing softly at whispered jokes I couldn't understand...

_ Ysmir give me strength. _ This night was going to wear on my nerves. And particularly so if I'd have to sit through more passionate embraces than I'd already had to. Yeah,  _ "sworn" _ and all that, but this wasn't anything like what I'd had in mind to endure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hell i forgot to take notes on the ta'agra this time so youre gonna have to deal with what i remember of what i translated
> 
> conversation with ri'saad:  
> -Is M'Athra still around here?  
> -Uh yeah. She's crazy, little one. She's up there.  
> -In the city? Oh yeah, Nords can't see or smell, huh?  
> -Play nice, Dar'Zahyla.  
> -Thank you, sir.
> 
> and then in the tavern with S'Athra  
> -[My] moon, how many years has it been?  
> -Too many.  
> [After the kiss]  
> -Ah... Not here, love.  
> [When S'Athra is greeting Lydia]  
> -Greetings, friend. How are you?
> 
> another note, apparently ta'agra for "bosmer" is "dreamer" but not pronounced like that, pronounced like "dreh-AH-mer". i went with the translation of "bosmeri" instead which is "dreameri" and also capitalized it to try to make it look as it should look. what a wild language


	3. Chapter 3

Dar'Zahyla had initially tried to keep me in the loop during her conversation with the Khajiit S'Athra, but as the wine flowed, it loosened her tongue, and soon all traces of Nordic had fled from her lips. That suited me just fine. Judging from the hushed laughter and the light blush that occasionally touched S'Athra's cheeks, I didn't want to know.

So I sat in the chair closest the door, nursing my drinks one after another, keeping my chair balanced on its back legs as my booted foot rested against the heavy wooden table. The stronger brew was starting to hit me already, a pleasant warmth filling my stomach even as the liquor started to make my head fuzzy.

I decided idly that I liked the sound of Ta'agra just fine, with its rolling consonants and thickly accented vowels. It was just that I preferred hearing my Thane speak it.  _ Just _ my Thane.

And I definitely preferred hearing it without the added visual of S'Athra constantly leaning in, touching Dar'Zahyla's cheek and hand, grinning and nuzzling against my Thane's jaw and neck. Dar'Zahyla wasn't really the touchy-feely type, and though she wasn't outwardly uncomfortable yet, I was feeling plenty annoyed on her behalf. Old friends or not, I wanted the girl's hands  _ off her. _

S'Athra leaned in, taking Dar'Zahyla by the chin as if to kiss her again, and I saw her eyes widen as she pulled back, ears flickering in nervous embarrassment. My lip curled against my mug. I downed the rest of my drink in one pull.

"Zira zavoh, kha'jay," S'Athra purred, grinning broadly. She bit her lower lip in a gesture that was unmistakable. The name made my blood boil.

"S'Athra," Dar'Zahyla was muttering, shoulders hunched slightly, "sajoh shabar nik di Lydia, hm? Afa." My name in the mix gave me a jolt. I frowned; I could take a hint.

"Ah, don't lemme stop you," I grunted, ignoring the slight slur dragging on my words. Dar'Zahyla looked up in surprise as the front legs of my chair hit the ground sharply. I stood—wavered for an instant—and caught my balance on the wall. Dar'Zahyla moved to stand, concern creasing her brow, but I waved her off. "'M fine," I huffed. "Gettin' another drink, though."

"Kha'jay," Dar'Zahyla protested.

I blinked hard to clear my vision and shook my head. " _ Fine _ . You two... catch up. Or whatever."

"Ly'dia, are you well?" S'Athra spoke up, curious.

"She is  _ drunk, _ " Dar'Zahyla harrumphed, getting up. My hand clapped her shoulder, solidly putting her ass back into the chair. She grunted at the impact, looking rather surprised at the manhandling.

"Not drunk," I corrected flatly, and gave her a crooked grin. "You'd know if I was." I held my liquor better than most.

"You are  _ now _ ," she deadpanned. She picked up her own cup, but didn't get stand again. "Water only, kha'jay. We will not be here for much longer, Khajiit believes." S'Athra glanced aside at her with an inscrutable look. She gently covered Dar'Zahyla's hand with her own, squeezing in a surprisingly gentle, intimate way.

I didn't get water.

But I didn't return promptly to the room, either. Rather, I stayed just outside the doorway, sipping irritably at my fifth cup of mead. Unless it was my fourth. Maybe sixth. Whatever. Didn't matter. Dar'Zahyla said we'd be leaving soon and I trusted her. We still had work to do, after all, even if we had taken this detour to meet her... whatever.

With luck we'd be spending the night in Breezehome, rather than on the road. I was pretty sure that was the plan, anyway. I could already see it was dark out. We didn't do much traveling at night if we could avoid it. And Dar'Zahyla always slept better in a real bed. Well, usually. She complained that the bed that the house had been furnished with was "too big" and it made her restless, because  _ that  _ made sense. I usually wound up sharing the bed with her to shut her up about the size of the bed, usually with an arm clamped around her waist to stop her squirming.  _ Then _ she slept soundly, curled into my shoulder, purring faintly somewhere in her chest.

_ Hah. _ I hoped that was something that'd annoy my Thane's... friend. That Dar'Zahyla was so flustered and hesitant to accept S'Athra's touches yet only slept soundly in  _ my _ grip. Well. S'Athra probably wasn't ever gonna hear anything about that, actually. No reason for Dar'Zahyla to mention it to her, after all. But whatever. Still. Suck it.

I rubbed the heel of my hand into an eye, glaring down at my mug. Maybe I'd had a little too much. Whatever. Leaving soon.

My hand had no sooner touched the doorframe than I heard Dar'Zahyla inhale sharply through her nose and whisper in shock, " _ Elsweyr? _ "

I froze.

"Elsweyr. Wo ahziss," S'Athra murmured softly. "Tot ahziss dejka rejizevith jer, laa deqa dalaa—"

"Dov, S'Athra, dov. Dejoh ahziss." There was a brief lull in the conversation. I hesitated a second longer and stepped forward to enter the room—

The pair were kissing again. Softer, slower than before. Dar'Zahyla cradled S'Athra's face with one hand, the other resting comfortingly on S'Athra's. My throat seized; I knew a lovers' embrace when I saw one. I hastily retreated back around the corner before they noticed me—leaned my back to the wall to keep my footing. Fine. I'd already known they were involved. I just... well. I hadn't expected... It seemed that S'Athra had come to take her home.

The thought made my head reel. I sunk to the ground, staring blankly at my nearly-empty mug.

That's right, wasn't it? This wasn't her home. Never had been. She was here 'cause she couldn't go home, for whatever reason. But now she had a reason. Her lover was here, and she'd take Dar'Zahyla back home, and... well, I supposed that would be it. She'd have no reason or inclination to take me along with her.

Because she had a lover, and that lover wasn't me, and that was just-fucking- _ fine. _

What did I think I had to offer her, anyway? A cold temperament in a colder temperature. I didn't have any material wealth to convince her back. I had no status, no fortune. I scarcely even had a family to speak of. She was the only thing of worth that was mine, and even then that wasn't right, because I was hers, not the other way round.

And what the hell would Dar'Zahyla want with a grizzled old soldier with a respect problem when she had a soft, beautiful woman there kissing her and waiting to take her home?

"Dejoh ahziss," Dar'Zahyla repeated softly in the room behind me.

"Dar'Zahyla..." Her voice was choked with emotion.

_ Fuck you, _ I thought grimly. My eyes dared to well up; I pressed my nails into my palm until the pain brought enough distraction to banish them again.  _ Fuck you for taking her. _ I smiled humorlessly, bitterly at the empty mug in my hands.  _ And fuck me for letting you. _

So focused on the agonized tightening in my throat, I almost didn't notice when Dar'Zahyla came out again. It took the strong little thing physically lifting me to my feet to realize she was there at all. "Dar'Zahyla," I slurred, leaning heavily on her broad shoulder despite the height difference. My voice was unfamiliar to me: low and rough with alcohol, clogged with emotions I didn't bother trying to name. I didn't even notice my disrespect at forgoing her title. "Need t—" I stumbled; Dar'Zahyla chuckled and caught me, rubbing my back. "Need t'talk t'you," I mumbled.

"Kha'jay, you are  _ painfully _ drunk," she said, that charming little laugh rumbling in her throat, making me clench my eyes shut in agony. I wondered how much longer I had before I'd never hear it again. "We may talk in the morning, yes? After your headache."

"Nuh-uh," I protested too loudly for so late at night. Dar'Zahyla chuckled again, pressing a finger to my lips to remind me to stay quiet. "Tonight. I need t'...  _ fuck _ ." Words were hard. "Tonight. Please."

"When we get home, kha'jay."

I blinked several times, trying to steady my blurry vision. "Fine. Yeah."

I was only just able to wait that long before equal parts desperation and despair lunged up into my chest as the front door shut behind us.

Dar'Zahyla gave a muffled yelp as I shoved her up against the door, my lips immediately finding hers. I half-groaned into her mouth at the taste of the sweet liquor on her lips, acutely aware of how those wide green eyes were pinned on me. I wasn't sure what my goal had been. I just wanted her to remember that I was here, that I was hers, that—that I was  _ better  _ for her than S'Athra, gods damn it all, and that I would give her anything she wanted so long as she stayed here in Skyrim by my side—

"Kha'jay, Rajhin kodesh," Dar'Zahyla gasped out, pushing me back. She touched her fingers to her mouth in shock, ears flicking back in mortification. "How much d—"

I kissed her again, gentler, swallowing her protest. She sagged against me for a moment as my tongue brushed just slightly against hers. I tasted salt. She pushed me back again, eyes wide, and I finally noticed that my eyes were wet and dripping. "I don't want you to go," I whispered, burying my face into her neck. I swayed on my feet as a silent sob shook my shoulders, but Dar'Zahyla caught me. She always did. "I don't—fuck, y'can't go," I mumbled, clutching at her as she carefully led me to the stairs.

"Kha'jay, you have had altogether too much drink," Dar'Zahyla soothed softly. "This one is going nowhere."

It had to be driving her mad that I was dampening her soft, warm fur with my tears, but she simply held me tighter, leading me carefully up the steps. "You  _ are, _ " I accused, voice clogged with emotion. "You're... she's takin' you back, she  _ said... _ " Dar'Zahyla lowered me slowly into bed, and I yanked her down with me, trying to hide in her tunic that I was blubbering like a child. "I don't... you're gonna leave me again..."

"Kha'jay, kha'jay," Dar'Zahyla soothed, allowing me to pull her close. Her fingers began sliding gently through my hair, lightly scratching my scalp. "Ah, my moon, you break Khajiit's heart to be so upset." She thumped a fist twice against her chest. "Shh, shh,  _ wano jer. _ Dar'Zahyla goes nowhere."

"I  _ heard _ you," I whispered into her chest, my fingers clenching in the linen fabric.

Dar'Zahyla chuckled softly. "Kha'jay, puroh jer Ta'agra." She pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of my head. "This one will explain all in the morning, yes? If Lydia still recalls anything," she added with a little laugh. "But Dar'Zahyla will say this: this one is going nowhere, and certainly not anywhere without an impudent Nord to yank her from trouble, yes?"

I looked up at her, wary and fearful, but there was no sign of judgment nor dishonesty. She simply looked down at me with a weary smile, brushing her callused fingertips against my cheek. "Promise," I demanded, my voice still rough with weeping. "Promise you aren't leaving."

There was a deep sort of hurt in her gaze, and I wondered if she wasn't regretting her decision already. But finally she huffed out a soft sigh through her nose, smiled faintly, and nodded. " _ Kha'jay, pur ahziss thzina, _ " she rumbled in that baffling tongue, the deep, rumbling tones of her Ta'agra sapping the agony from my bones and leaving me weak and exhausted in her arms. " _ Dar'Zahyla khiohse teleash kerov jer. Jat? _ "

I had no idea what she said, but the way she said it coupled with the soft strokes of her fingers against my cheek was enough to mollify me. Dar'Zahyla smiled again and adjusted me in her grip, pressing herself into my back, nuzzled against the nape of my neck, arms wrapped around my middle to keep me cuddled back into her...

"My Thane," I slurred faintly, already feeling myself drifting off.

"Later, kha'jay," Dar'Zahyla rumbled against my ear, a comforting purr buzzing in her chest. I could've sworn I felt her lips brush my shoulder. "Sleep now."

I slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops this got longer than anticipated srry lol another chapter will be incoming after this one
> 
> no ta'agra translations this go-round so yall are as in the dark as lydia is (unless you wanna try your hand at decrypting it yourself lmao)

**Author's Note:**

> :3c........... >:3€


End file.
